When Two Worlds Collide Lyrics Novels & Stories

My childhood friend promised to marry me once we came of age — but at my wedding ceremony, he gave my wedding ring to my stepsister, Summer Hugh. At the time, it was Victor Lowell, the fearsome mafia heir, who saved me by publicly announcing he had loved me for years. In the five years we had been married, he would fulfill every wish I had, even those I mentioned offhand. I truly believed I was the center of his world. All that changed when I stumbled across a top-secret folder as I was cleaning his bookshelf. The very first page was a file on Summer, with three red words printed in bold, “Top protection priority.” It was followed by a mission report I knew too well. On the night of the mission, there had been an attempt on my life. My blood had almost run dry before I was saved. When I woke up at the hospital, I found out that I had lost a baby I did not know I had been carrying. I wept bitterly in Victor’s arms, but I did not tell him about the baby. I did not want him to worry about me more. Now, I finally found out — Summer had been attacked that night as well, and Victor’s orders had been: “Save Summer first.” My tears soaked into the paper, smudging his handwriting. “Alright,” I said softly but firmly into the silence. “If my marriage had been a lie all along, I’ll disappear from your life. Forever.”

Eight years into marriage, and Fabian's mom finally gave me and my son her stamp of approval. Invited us to spend Christmas in his hometown. My son—Luca--and I were hyped. We picked out a gift for her and hit the road with Fabian. Right as we pulled into the village, Fabian's old friend called—crying, claiming she'd crashed her car. Fabian panicked. Left me and Luca in some random snowy mountain town and sped off. It was pitch black. Snow dumping down. Then Luca screamed. He'd stepped on a trap and dropped into a pit. Blood everywhere. I called Fabian, totally panicked. He goes, "Stella, Roxana's in a wreck. I need to be with her. Stop making everything a competition." Then he hung up. Blocked me. No time to fall apart. I wiped my face, called an ambulance. Too far out. By the time they got there, Luca was already gone. Cold. Broken. Gone. I held him and screamed until my lungs gave out. Meanwhile, Roxana's posting in the social media. All smiles in Fabian's arms. His face soft. Loving. [Highway jam turned into truth or dare. One word—"accident"—and he came flying. So happy.] I exhaled. Tagged Fabian. [Let's get a divorce.] This joke of a marriage should've ended forever ago.

From the very start, he was my mate, but he never wanted me. He rejected and despised me becausebecause he was in love with someone else. To him, I was just an intruder and a problem. I accepted this and yearned for my freedom away from him while witnessing him declare his love for someone else. However, one day, he made a mistake that woke up my suppressed desire and reminded me of my rightful position as his Luna. Now, I longed for him, and I no longer cared about anyone else in my way.

I am diagnosed with severe systemic lupus erythematosus, and I only have three days left to live. When my husband rejects my 188th plea for help, I take my test results and enter the hospice care center. "Hello, I'd like to schedule my own cremation process and apply for government aid." Ten minutes later, they arrive. Before I can speak, my lawyer husband, Jasper Horton, coldly slaps me across the face. "You're faking a terminal illness just to steal attention from Janice?" My doctor brother, Casey Carter, snatches the medical report from my hand and scoffs at it. "Lupus? If you're going to fake being sick, at least make it believable. Only one in a million people gets this." I endure the pain in my body, return to the counter, and hand in the application form and my medical records once more. The staff member sees the butterfly-shaped rash on my wrist and sympathizes with me. "I have no family left," I say. "I'm requesting cremation in three days, location doesn't matter. I just don't want my death to burden anyone."

"You can't run away from them, goddess." Albert's cold voice echoed in her ears, and Myra almost trembled with fear. "Then what should I do? Do you want me dead...! They will kill me" She cried. "They won't..." Albert said and Myra blinked in surprise. How could he be so sure? "They can't kill you, goddess and you don't have to run away from them" Then what do you want me to do? They are so dangerous and strong whereas I am just a human girl..." she cried in frustration. What else could she imagine? "You can never defeat them but you can Tame them..." Albert's words reverberated in Myra's ears as she unconsciously repeated them. "Tame them...!!" Is he serious? "Can you be more serious? We are talking about those two most powerful Alpha's out there not some cats or dogs... Who the hell could tame them??" Albert smiled. "No one else could but you can..." ******** Let's embark on the beautiful yet tough journey of a little human girl, Myra, in which she was introduced to the world of werewolves as the red stone goddess. How would be her life after that? Will she survive? Thank you for choosing my book. We authors need your support. A review, a comment even a like is appreciated. Thank you once again.❤💕

My twin sister, Audrey Goodwin, was obsessed with romance novels about rich heirs. All she wanted was to marry into money and live like some perfect socialite. She set her sights on the silver-spoon scion in Jezelton, Michael Strickland, who'd been blind after a car accident. Audrey got close by becoming his private nurse. But she got tired of the work really quickly. So, she asked me to cover for her. When Michael finally got his eyesight back and held a huge celebration, Audrey decided to drug him so she could slide right into the role of Mrs. Strickland. I didn't stop her this time. I even went as far as booking her a luxury suite so she could carry out her plan. In my last life, I had begged Audrey not to go through with it. I told her romance novels weren't real life, and guys like Michael were way too powerful to mess with. She had actually listened and canceled the plan. But a little while later, the news broke: Michael secretly got married. It turned out that he'd been with someone else that very night. Just like that, Audrey's big fantasy was gone. She blamed me for ruining her "dream". My parents blamed me as well; they beat me and yelled at me, saying Audrey couldn't marry Michael now because of me. One night, Audrey snapped. She came into my room with a hammer and beat me to death. Now, I had been given another chance. I woke up right on the night of Michael's recovery party.

I left one dire situation and landed in another! Why can't fairies be sweet?! My name is Jessa, and I recently took a trip to Ancient Troy because I said, "I didn't believe in fairies," while sitting on a fairy hill, during a full eclipse. I was on vacation with my family in Ireland, and my sister Meena was with me on the hill when I was sucked through time! Now, I ripped through time again, landing in Ancient Pompeii. Right before Mount Vesuvius destroys the whole area! The best part? My Trojan Prince husband has a twin in Rome and has purchased me as a slave! Why couldn't I return to my own time! Do you want to hear some sound advice? Don't ever piss-off a fairy!

Caught between two Alpha Kings, Aria had a life more miserable than any wolf of her age. To the first king, she was sold to him for a couple bucks and became his never resting machine to show his sexual prowess. He took pride in reminding her that her usefulness only lay in bed. When salvation came to her in the form of a new king, her child was his utmost priority— a priority set to tarnish his image for eternity. She would watch both rivals battle endlessly for the custody of that one joy in her unending sorrows. But when one of them confronts his own demons and his growing feelings for Aria, what becomes of the fate of the poor, wretched Omega slave and mother?

When my mother won a million dollars from a lottery ticket, she prepared an envelope for each of her three children. After we opened them, my younger brother and younger sister each found a bank card inside. But from my envelope, two 1-dollar coins clinked onto the floor. Seeing me freeze, a trace of unease flickered across Mother's face. "Cassian," she said hesitantly, "Logan and Sienna suffered a lot growing up because your father passed away so early. So I gave each of them 500 thousand dollars as compensation. "You're the eldest son—like a father to them. Don't fight with them over this, okay?" I glanced down at the faded down jacket I had worn for years, the fabric so worn that it had lost its color. Then, my eyes drifted to my younger brother's limited-edition sneakers and to the designer bag slung over my sister's shoulder. Mother seemed to have forgotten that when Father died, I had only been eight. I smiled faintly. "Alright. I won't fight them for it." Hearing this, Mother let out a long breath of relief. The next second, my voice turned cold. "Then I won't fight for the responsibility of supporting you in your old age either."

Reva Aldridge did not choose this life. It was chosen for her. She woke up in a luxury hotel room in Milan with no memory of the night before and a face she recognized looking back at her. The face of Nico Castellano. The most powerful mafia boss on the East Coast of Italy. The man her sister Petra was supposed to marry. Petra had wanted out of the engagement so she drugged her younger sister and sent her in her place. Now the scandal has spread. The Castellano name has been attached to Reva's, and there is only one way to fix it. She becomes his contract wife but the terms are brutal. She is expected to give him an heir. She has no choice because her family has already decided for her. Reva moves into Casa Castellano in Sicily and tries to survive. But something is wrong; her husband is not the same man from one day to the next. Some nights he is cold and controlled, and other nights he is different, softer in ways she cannot explain. A different scent and hands that feel like they belong to someone else. She tells herself she is imagining it. She is not. There are two of them. Twins. And they have both been with her without her knowing. Now that she knows the truth, they are both refusing to let her go. The devil does not wear one face. He wears two. And Reva belongs to both of them.